


The Voice of an Angel

by AshOnFire



Category: Homestuck
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-04-22
Updated: 2013-04-29
Packaged: 2017-12-09 05:52:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,082
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/770735
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AshOnFire/pseuds/AshOnFire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John, the nobody nerd who sits in the back of class not really paying attention, is stuck going to church with his father. He goes every weekend without complaint to make him happy, but each time just seems like such a torture. The one day John purely believed his brain was literally going to rot out of boredom, however, his ears catch a beautiful sound coming from a boy with shades over his eyes. Suddenly music begins to form in his head....but it's not just any music. Is this destiny?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Song For My Ears

John gave a sigh. He was dressed in his Sunday best, just as his father made him wear every week. Although John wasn’t really much of a religious person, his dad was, and so he went along with him obediently, if not a little reluctantly, scuffing his shoes on the worn carpet of the cathedral. He was lead to the seats they normally took, and John was so instantly bored that he considered whether or not to take out his phone and play angry birds and whatnot. But then, he remembered what had happened the last time he had done that, and shuddered, actually going so far as to turning it off to eliminate the temptation.

  
He slouched down in his seat as he would have done in school, only to receive a sharp smack to the back of his head. He looked up in annoyance and confusion to his dad who then told him to sit up like a proper gentleman. He just couldn’t win, could he? But he sat up anyway, with a bit of whining, of course, and half listened half zoned as an unknown person began to speak. He was introducing a choir by the sound of what little reached John’s ears, but it wasn’t like he was actually listening....that was until they actually started to sing.  
  
His head slowly moved to look at them, his brain slowly processing what was going on, and suddenly, he was transfixed. It wasn’t the choir as a whole, they were mediocre at best, but one voice in particular. His ears were trained to pick out specific sounds because of years of piano lessons, and he quickly found the source of the beautiful sound. It was a boy who looked about John’s age, with paler than pale skin, white hair, and sunglasses. His appearance made him look like the “coolest of the coolkids”, but his voice made him sound like an angel.  
  
It was soft, not too dominant, but loud enough to be there and heard. Every word was like a woven web of beauty being sung from his mouth like an elegant poem. The way he sang the melody was strung together instead of little snippets, creating a long string of beautiful runs that just made John’s heart flutter.   
For the first time since he was a small child forced to come here, he actually paid attention to what was going on. He listened so intently to every little note the boy sang, and couldn’t pry his eyes away even when they were done singing. For the next hour or so, the songs kept running through his head, and it was as though he couldn’t get them to go away. They were there, always spinning, it was as though his brain were telling him something.  
  
All of a sudden, John jumped a little in his seat, earning a concerned glance from his father. He scrambled around his pocket for his little black book and pen and began furiously writing notes down on the paper. It was as though the music was writing itself. Every little thing the boy sang began to rearrange into an even more beautiful melody, woven together by a voice of a choirboy and a son of a baker who heard him sing.


	2. John can't speak like a normal person

When the service was over, John had just finished writing the last notes, and he shot from his seat to catch up with the wonderful singer. He caught him by the door, just as he was waving to a man in an orange sports car. He placed a hand on his arm to stop him. “Um- excuse me!” He said to get his attention. The other looked surprised, but he turned his head to John.

“Yeah?”

John was actually very surprised at the deepness of his voice, considering he sang so high. “Oh!” He realized he had just been staring and his face went a delicate shade of pink. “I just..I wanted to tell you just how amazing your voice is!” he gave a small, nervous giggle, and sort of looked away, not sure what to say next. Wow, way to go Egbert. Start a conversation you don’t know how to continue, or really, what the point even is. 

He stares at John for a moment with a blank expression, making him shift uncomfortably where he stood. After awhile, however, his face splits out into a grin, which not only made John relieved, but took his breath away. The other gives a small laugh, flipping off whoever was waiting in the car for him when he called out to the boy again, and smiled at John.

“Thanks, man.”

His head jerks slightly, making his bangs flick from his face, or rather, his shades, before he continued.  
“I like to sing I guess. It’s really nothing more than a hobby, but I’m glad you enjoyed it. I’m Dave, by the way.”  
John sort of just stood there for a while, giving a face like a gaping fish. Once he realized he was just prompted to give his own name, he blushed a delicate shade of pink and averted his gaze, finally answering.

“Oh! I’m John. And I think you should really consider doing it for more than just shits and giggles. You’re very talented.”

By the time he was done, he was excited again, his face lit up and his blue eyes wide. Something changed in Dave’s face. Something like pride, mixed with something John just couldn’t quite put his finger on. It was like he had never been complimented before.  
“You really think so?” His voice was laced with hope, but by the time he realized this, he coughed and blushed maybe just a little (John thought he could only tell because this boy’s face was so pale). “I mean, thanks.”

They both stood there a little awkwardly for another few moments before the person calling out to dave honked his horn, which made both of them jump. Dave looked back to his car, then t John again. After a brief moments hesitation, he took John’s hand and then took out a pen. He scribbled something on it, then let his hand drop.

“Pester me”

That was the last thing he yelled over his shoulder before he was gone, meeting whoever he was meeting and driving away.  
John looked down at his hand. Written in scrawly and what only could be described as ‘lazy coolkid’ handwriting was what was obviously a chumhandle.

turntechGodhead

**Author's Note:**

> Okay so, i wrote this for http://eannab.tumblr.com as a thing i did for my followers. I decided I liked the idea so much that I'm actually going to do a story on it! ovo
> 
> Unfortunately, I really suck at continuing things, so it would be awesome if you guys could message me with suggestions and helpful criticism if there's something you want me to change. 
> 
> Thanks so much! <3
> 
> P.S
> 
> Theres going to be fan art of this later, also done by http://eannab.tumblr.com that i will be posting on here as well.
> 
>  
> 
> P.P.S
> 
> Nepeta is dead. That is all.


End file.
